What’s with all this “UFO Disclosure” business going on in Washington? There’s no hue and cry amongst the public for it.
What’s with all this “UFO Disclosure” business going on in Washington? There’s no hue and cry amongst the public for it.
I've been sifting through The Secret Sun archives, which is a lot harder than it sounds. There are thousands of posts that got scrambled by Blogger interface changeover, resulting in walls of unbroken text, multiple fonts and text sizes, misaligned images and paragraph breaks, and all other kinds of digital mischief.
But if you go to the archive listing on the main page you'll see I'm slowly but surely getting a carefully-curated selection of posts back up.
Nietzsche once said, "All great things must first wear a terrifying and monstrous mask, in order to inscribe themselves on the hearts of humanity."
Surely he must have been prophesying the rise, fall, and remarkable afterlife of one Edward Alexander Crowley, aka Greast Beast 666, aka Creepy Ol' Uncle Aleister.
My family and I were discussing the Mandela Effect at Sunday dinner. My daughter-in-law wasn't familiar with it, so we looked up some ME listicles. I have to confess that I remember the conventional versions of history with most of the popular examples, and a lot seemed kind of stupid to me ("Flinstones" without a T? Really?).
But I do remember KitKat with a hyphen, I do remember "Proctor & Gamble" and I absolutely do remember Ed McMahon doing commercials for Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, not Slappy Dick's Publishing Doohickey or whatever the fuck fake company was embedded into the timeline.
Take a good look at the future, my friends. Pretty much everything I've been ranting about to anyone who will listen these past fourteen years is encapsulated into eight short minutes of canned video of a fake performance in front of a fake crowd gathered in a fake Times Square.